


one track mind

by rbbsbb



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Harry Styles, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Desperation, Knotting, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Omega Louis Tomlinson, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Rough Sex, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:14:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28800411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rbbsbb/pseuds/rbbsbb
Summary: “You have a lot of friends, huh?”Harry nods again. “A few.” The muscles of his bicep flex under Louis’ touch, and the alpha looks a bit drunk from the feeling, his eyes blinking slower and lips quirking at the corners. He’s leaning in, his alpha scent surrounding Louis from all sides.“Mm,” Louis hums, squeezing his fingers tight, just to hear the sharp way Harry inhales. Then, when Harry is least expecting it, Louis returns the earlier sentiment—leaning up on his tiptoes and pressing his weight into Harry for balance, drawing his lips up close to Harry’s ear, and whispering, “Why don’t you go tell them goodnight.”
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 23
Kudos: 427





	one track mind

**Author's Note:**

> some un-beta'd and shameless smut, written in like two days total. i still don't know how to end pwp. but...
> 
> i hope you enjoy.

There are dozens of alphas in the room, but Louis only has his sights set on one.

Everyone seems to know him as he makes his rounds, with _these_ omegas stopping him to say hello and _those_ alphas pulling him in for a quick handshake. All confident in the way he walks, talks, fucking _stands_ , this guy is everything an alpha should be.

Broad shoulders. Long and lean, with subtle muscles that stretch the fabric of his worn tee. A strong jawline and sharp cheekbones—a refined softness that does little to camouflage the clear strength that he conducts.

It’s only a little bit overwhelming to Louis, how the man is so blatantly self-assured, carrying a confidence about him that comes naturally to few.

“Who’s that?” Louis asks, nudging the arm beside him.

There’s the sound of a glass hitting the table, but Louis finds himself unable to pull his eyes away from the alpha across the room.

The nameless man is laughing with a group of girls, his big eyes squinting shut and creasing at the corners, while he runs one of his enormous hands through the curling hair toward the base of his skull. So cocky, so cool, so collected in his movements.

His voice is hardly audible across the bar, but there’s a clear timbre to it in his laugh. Deep, and slow, like molasses on a summer’s day.

Out of nowhere, “Who?” comes from Louis’ right, and he nods his head toward the stranger.

Niall moves in his peripheral, head turning as he follows Louis’ line of sight. “Oh,” the beta says, humming in thought, “Harry?”

“Harry,” Louis copies, feeling the name in his mouth.

It’s a nice fit, sliding off his tongue with ease as he fits it together with the face. Harry, like the prince—a powerful name to match that powerful stance, that rich poise that he possesses in the way that he dresses and holds himself.

The harder he focuses, the more Louis can make out his words. It’s just banter spilling from those lips, a joke to please the masses that have gathered around him.

“Mister popular, is he?” Louis wonders aloud. Slowly, like it’s an afterthought, Louis lifts his forgotten beer to his lips, sipping at it while he watches.

Niall snorts, and slaps a hand against Louis’ shoulder. “You like him or something? I can wave him down for you.” One of Niall’s hands begins to raise in Harry’s direction, but Louis halts him, grabbing his wrist before it’s raised.

“No,” Louis says, slow. “I’ll do it myself.”

Again, Niall snorts. “You’re always so fuckin’ weird, mate.”

The rest of their table is lost in conversation, oblivious to Louis’ voyeurism, and Niall returns his attention to them without another word.

For a while more, Louis just continues to watch, taking in Harry’s entire form while he waits for the right moment. Even with him dressed so haphazardly, his shirt a size too small and shoes too colorful to match the rest of him, Louis’ intrigued by it all.

That big mouth of his just never seems to close, telling story after story to the waiting ears that surround him. Those giant hands that he’s got decked out in mismatched jewelry never seem to stop, waving in the air and gesturing wildly. The soft swell of his Adam’s apple bobs with every move he makes, and Louis finds himself transfixed at the motion.

Harry eventually moves on to the next group that’s eyeing him down, nothing more than a vagabond as the minutes pass. Living life after life, giving stories and tales of himself to each new person that he greets, Harry never stands still for too long.

It isn’t until Louis’ drink comes up empty to his lips that he bothers to look away. The rest of his group has scattered about the room, and the sun has set outside the bar’s window, and the world seems to have moved on during Louis’ watch.

Taking his eyes away for only a moment more, Louis grabs a few of the empty drinks around him and rises to his feet. When he glances back toward where he left Harry, the alpha is gone, already having moved on to the next of his admirers.

“What the fuck,” Louis mutters.

Immediately, a slight panic rises in his chest, and Louis’ sights spare the room in search. There are couples dancing together to the sensual and slow melody that thrums from the speakers, and people are jostling one another in booths all around the place.

Niall, and Liam, and all of Louis’ friends are spread thin across his eyeline, and Louis’ unable to see Harry through any of it. Every corner of the room is lacking that poised presence, suddenly, and Louis’ almost angry at himself for giving leeway on his hunt until—

At the bar, with a few rogue bills in his hand as he waves down the bartender, Louis spots his backside.

With his shirt pulled tight across those broad shoulders, the fabric of it stretches with each wave of his arm. Harry’s legs look even longer from this angle, his thighs thicker, hair wilder.

Louis smirks to himself as he blinks away the alarm, and he adjusts the grip on the glasses in hand before starting his stalk. A routine kind of calm washes over with each step, and Louis can feel the beat of the music rising up through him as he moves, syncing with his heartbeat all sultry and deliberate.

Thump, thump, _thump_.

As soon as Louis is within touching distance, he can smell him. Alpha pheromones, loud and brazen with intensity, only draw Louis further into the trance that he’s set in. It’s honey and sweet, Harry’s scent, just waiting for Louis to ruffle the serenity of it.

“Oi, Mark!” Harry shouts, still waving.

For the first time all night, Harry is met with rejection, the bartender busy with some rogue girls at the other end of the bar. Louis’ lips quirk up at the frustrated press of Harry’s brow, and he stakes claim on the spot beside him, sliding up with ease.

Without fail, and just as Louis had expected, Harry’s eyes immediately find him. It’s like a spotlight, receiving Harry’s sought-after attention after a night of waiting patiently for it.

Those big, round eyes of his blink a few times as he meets Louis’ face for the first time, and the anticipation builds when nothing but intrigue fills up around the green center of them. Up close, he’s even more handsome, the angles of his face more defined and rugged when there’s no distance to dampen the view.

Louis settles the glasses on the bar top and offers Harry a faux innocent smile, eyebrows raising on a titter. “No luck?”

There’s a curious squint to Harry’s eyes as he takes in the sight before him, his eyes blatantly dipping down Louis’ front and observing the posture he’s presenting—the cock in his hip, the lean in his shoulders, the open, vulnerable parting of his lips.

As quick as he’d looked, Harry pulls his eyes back up, and Louis’ stomach flutters when he sees that Harry’s taken the bait. The alpha’s stance changes immediately, his shoulders pressing back and chest puffing out. A slick, arrogant smile crawls across his lips.

“Not yet,” Harry says, turning toward Louis in the slightest. There’s a curious lilt to his voice when he tacks on, “You’re new around here.”

Routine, just as Louis has done so many times before, he glances down at his own feet in feign uncertainty before looking up again, blinking under his eyelashes. “What? You don’t recognize me?”

This time, Harry fails to take the bait. Unphased by Louis’ act, almost reading his mind, Harry’s still so cocky when he says, “I’d recognize a face like that.” The alpha’s nostrils flare, ever so slightly, and Louis’ cheeks warm at the implication. “I’m Harry. You are?”

Louis laughs and turns his head. This one is bold—bolder than most, anyways.

“No one important,” Louis says, and he smiles at Harry again, aware of how his canines bite against the pink of his lips. Harry tracks the movement, blinking softly.

Harry quips, “I beg to differ.”

Their bodies lean closer with each passing moment, with every flirty remark. At this rate, Louis will get what he came for in no time.

“Tell you what,” Louis says, and one of his hands sneaks out to knock against the bar. “Buy me a drink and I’ll tell you my name.”

Harry looks away this time, smirking as he swallows. In the hazy light, bar signs illuminating against his skin, Harry’s profile almost glows. It’s like watching a godly creature in action, an Adonis of his own right.

“That’s not what you came over here for, is it?” Harry remarks, and he meets Louis’ eyes again with an intentional look.

Usually, the alphas that Louis goes for enjoy the chase. They play into his faux innocent act, the prolonged verbal foreplay that only builds the tension and leaves both them and Louis desperate to meet the night’s end.

Interesting. This one isn’t playing Louis’ games, only putting up a challenge. Louis squints, and asks, “What did I come here for, then?”

The bartender shuffles around at the other end of the bar, and Harry glances at him for a moment—looking as though he might forgo Louis completely and get the drink that he’d come for—but he snaps back like a rubber band.

One of his hands climbs up until it’s resting just beside Louis’ own on the bar, and he leans down, down, down, until his lips are barely brushing Louis’ cheek. “You tell me, Omega.”

So fucking arrogant, it makes Louis shudder—his cock stirring below his jeans. The warmth of Harry’s minty breath causes goosebumps to rise up Louis’ arms, makes the hair on the back of his neck rise in sudden anticipation.

A heavy sigh falls from Louis’ lips, and he’s almost at a loss for words when Harry pulls away, an amused, daring look in his eyes. “Hm?”

“That’s forward,” Louis tells him. “Calling me _Omega_ , like you know me.” There’s a slight waver in his voice, and Louis clears his throat to rid himself of it.

Harry only chuckles, still standing close, fingers brushing up against Louis’ knuckles. “You won’t tell me your name. What other choice do I have?”

Something heavy and thick settles in the air between them. Everything around goes silent, save for their breathing. Their pheromones mix as they share a pointed look, unspoken words filling the distance as Louis tries to decipher what exactly Harry’s dark eyes are preaching.

It’s all intense, Harry’s gaze staring deep into his own, those sharp eyes offering something without so much as a word. Their fingers brush, and Louis lets it happen once, twice, three times, until Harry pulls away completely.

The ball is in Louis’ court, suddenly, and Harry raises one eyebrow.

After a steadying inhale, “I’m Louis.”

“Louis,” Harry repeats, and a smile forms. “It’s nice to meet you.”

It’s too soon to give it away, but Louis’ in new territory here. There’s typically more pursuit involved, more subtle flirting in which Louis can assert exactly what he wants without being bold with it. This guy, though—he’s an entirely different ballpark to what Louis is used to.

Harry is a gamechanger. And, surprisingly, Louis’ not completely put off by it.

“I’ve been watching you,” Louis says, finally, tilting his head back to expose his neck in the slightest.

In this fight for control, Louis’ not going to let himself slip. Showing his neck makes him vulnerable, sure, but it also makes Harry’s alpha pause, weakening his play, even for a moment.

Just as expected, Harry’s eyes fall down to Louis’ throat, blinking fast and unsure as he takes in the expanse of it. Louis’ omega preens, and a flush rises up his chest. There’s still a heat coiling in Louis’ gut, making him slick up, ever so slightly.

Harry coughs, clearly trying to play it cool. “Watching me?”

Louis nods, slow and syrupy. “Watching you.”

He reaches out and meticulously places a hand on Harry’s shoulder, pretending to inspect something there. It doesn’t bother Harry in the slightest—just strokes his ego as he presses into the touch.

When Harry doesn’t respond, just raises his brows and nods with a sly smile, waiting, Louis decides. This is happening.

“You have a lot of friends, huh?”

Harry nods again. “A few.” The muscles of his bicep flex under Louis’ touch, and the alpha looks a bit drunk from the feeling, his eyes blinking slower and lips quirking at the corners. He’s leaning in, his alpha scent surrounding Louis from all sides.

“Mm,” Louis hums, squeezing his fingers tight, just to hear the sharp way Harry inhales. Then, when Harry is least expecting it, Louis returns the earlier sentiment—leaning up on his tiptoes and pressing his weight into Harry for balance, drawing his lips up close to Harry’s ear, and whispering, “Why don’t you go tell them goodnight.”

This time it’s Harry who falters, eyes closed in delight when Louis pulls away. He looks positively euphoric, sucking on his teeth as he chuckles heavily. The angle of his jaw shifts when he licks his lips, and Harry’s eyes open slowly, teasing.

“Now who’s being forward?” Harry asks, but he’s already pulling away from the bar, ready to move.

Louis follows his lead, loosening the reigns on his control for just a moment, and lets Harry wrap one of those gigantic hands of his around Louis’ smaller one, tugging him toward the door. It’s all warm and grounding, and the sudden shift of power has Louis feeling breathless.

With rushed movements and Harry’s steady hold leading him out, Louis manages to wave Niall down in the heat of it all.

Across the bar, his friend’s eyes visibly dance over the scene, sights catching on Louis, and Harry, and their hands where they’re connected. And, once the dots connect, Niall is shouting, “What a lad!” making Louis’ cheeks heat, his fingers tighten on the hold.

“Niall’s a friend of yours?” Harry asks, pulling Louis closer. With a pleased smirk on his face, he glances behind Louis, where Niall is still hollering out chants of support.

Louis rolls his eyes as they tread through the crowd that’s gathered at the door, and Harry clears a path for them on the way out. “Something like that.”

The cool, evening air sends a chill down Louis’ neck, overheated skin shivering at the change of temperature. Harry is all warm right up beside him, pressing close as soon as they’re on the sidewalk.

The night crowd has already started their war on the city, loud and boisterous as people fill the street in search of booze, and sex, and everything that Louis’ already secured for the night.

Suddenly, fast enough to give Louis whiplash, Harry tugs Louis toward the street and hails down a cab with no reservation. As they wait for it to pull up, Harry faces Louis completely, hands climbing up Louis’ wrists, toward his elbows, then higher until he’s settling two warm palms against the curve of Louis’ throat, thumbs running along the swell of his chin.

“You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” Harry asks, gaze glued on Louis’ lips.

It’s instinctual, licking at them, blushing under all the attention. Heat thrums under Louis’ skin like a gasoline fire, blazing hotter and hotter as the seconds pass, as Harry’s eyes get darker and his stare holds longer.

“You think so?” Louis teases, lightheaded as he sways in Harry’s hold.

That typical feeling starts to spread under Louis clothes, across his skin. All prickly, making Louis’ heartbeat race, his nipples harden—ass clenching at the knowledge of what’s to come. Everything feels hot all over, fucking scorching him from the inside out.

“Mm,” Harry murmurs, leaning closer, too much but not enough.

Their breaths mingle in the air, and Harry’s scent feels somehow thicker like this, pheromones seeping into Louis’ skin through their touch. Louis’ getting hard in his jeans, cock more than interested in the rough way that Harry adjusts his hold on Louis’ neck, fingers digging in at the base of his skull.

The cab rolls up beside them, and Harry holds his stare on Louis’ wet lips for another beat, like he’s tempted to give in and get a taste, before he’s stepping backwards with Louis in his grip. It’s beyond infuriating when Harry lets him go to grab the door handle, and Louis’ mouth goes dry when he realizes he’s got to wait for it.

Nonetheless, it’s a sealed deal. Louis will get what he wants. Even if Harry is making him work for it, Louis’ going to get it.

As Louis climbs in before Harry, a hand grazes his lower back, just a teasing touch that makes the air stiffer. Harry’s voice asks, “Come to mine?” as he follows Louis in, and the two shuffle together until their thighs are touching while Louis replies with a quick nod, not caring where the fuck they go as long as they’re together.

All of his reservations are out the door—not that he had any to begin with—and Louis listens while Harry recites the address to the cabbie. While he speaks his profile is on display, a silhouette in the darkness with soft looking lips and a determined crease at his brow.

Fuck, Louis wants to get his mouth on him. Those lush lips, bitten red with how much Harry wants Louis back, look like a drug in the moonlight, and Louis feels like a fucking addict dying for a taste.

One of Louis’ hands snake out and grab onto Harry’s shirt, fingers tangling in the fabric but not pushing or pulling. It’s just a touch, a connection that grounds Louis in the moment. Something about Harry’s skin calls out to him, the need to feel it and revel in the warmth it supplies.

As the car starts to roll, and the driver directs his attention to the road, Louis leans toward Harry in the slightest, grinning when the alpha finally pays mind to him again.

Harry’s lip quirks, and he takes hold of Louis’ hand in his own. “What do you want from me, Louis?” There’s nothing harsh in it, just genuine hungry curiosity.

The point of his brow, and the intensity in his eyes, and the way his fingers start to stroke against Louis’ knuckles, makes the world shift. Louis has to close his eyes, breathe in to steady himself, almost shaking from Harry’s touch.

This alpha is everything that Louis could ever want. From the look of his body, his muscles and narrow hips, to the tone of his voice, so fucking cocky and arrogant but in a way that’s clearly for show.

Louis blinks his eyes open, sultry and dazed, and Harry is staring down at his lips again, that smirk of his long gone. Louis licks his lips, savoring the way that the movement seems to leave Harry as dazed as he is, and whispers, “Thought you knew what I came to you for.”

The alpha nods, and one of his hands falls to Louis’ knee, climbing up his pants until he’s pressing those long, nimble fingers right into Louis’ thigh, just below his cock.

It forces a gasp out of him, heat spasming, suddenly, in his gut, his pelvis, his _hole_. Louis can feel slick between his cheeks, a heat rising up his chest and cheeks.

Louis’ got to grab at Harry’s hand to stop him from climbing higher, and his gaze shoot toward the driver whose eyes are pointedly fixed on the road.

The alpha beside him makes a noise almost akin to a growl, chest rumbling as the hand holding Louis’ own suddenly releases and grabs at his chin, returning Louis’ eyes to him and nowhere else.

“I know what you want,” Harry murmurs, close enough now that Louis’ eyes cross while looking at him. His voice is much grittier now, darker and deeper. The hold he’s got on Louis’ thigh, and his chin, never falters. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Before Louis can speak, two of Harry’s fingers are reaching up, up, _up_ , and press intentionally against Louis’ clothed prick. The feeling has Louis gasping again, right into Harry’s parted lips this time, and every inch of Louis’ body shudders.

Fuck, Louis’ getting wetter, nearly writhing against the seat below him as Harry’s fingers start to stroke him through the tight zip of his jeans.

“C’mon, Louis,” Harry whispers, thumb coming up to tug against his bottom lip, revealing his sharp teeth. “Say it.” Harry’s eyes never leave his mouth.

It takes Louis a moment to collect his words, fit them together so that they’ll make sense. With Harry touching him like this, and his scent suffocating, and his natural alpha dominance all but forcing Louis to surrender in the battle for control, Louis can hardly keep himself composed.

All he wants to do is fit his mouth against Harry’s, to climb into the alphas lap and feel those strong hands against his skin, to be thrown around as if he never had any control here to begin with.

Louis is always used to being in charge. Pick up an alpha, take them home, use them for all they’re worth, and forget about it in the morning. The power is always in Louis’ hands, even when he’s giving himself over to someone else, but—

Harry is the alpha, here.

More alpha than anyone Louis’ ever met. Able to read his body language, his tone, his _thoughts_. And, Harry is in charge, no doubt about it.

Louis can’t fight how much he fucking revels in it. How easily, now, he’s able to surrender.

“I want you,” Louis starts, voice unsteady and low, “to take me back to yours.” The feeling of Harry stroking his cock, touch hardly there, never falters. Louis’ breath comes out in waves, harsh and unsteady. “I want you to bend me over, and spread me open—”

Harry’s eyes are so sharp, so focused and unblinking. There’s a clench to his teeth, jaw probably sore with it, and his nostrils are flaring like he can’t get enough of Louis’ scent, the overwhelming and obvious smell of Louis’ slick wetness now evident to even Louis’ own nose.

The alpha’s palm starts to slide up, fully pressing against Louis’ prick now, and Louis shudders. “I want—”

Before Louis can continue, the car slams to a halt. The movement has both him and Harry jerking, the moment shattered with how sudden everything comes to an end.

There’s still slick between his cheeks, and Louis’ dick is still hard, and Harry’s strong alpha scent still has his eyesight going hazy, but the cab driver starts to mutter the fee and that’s all it takes to have Louis crawling out of the backseat and onto the street, legs wobbling under him and head swirling with how turned on he is.

It only takes what feels like a moment for Harry to pay the man, and for the cabbie to speed off as if he can’t get away fast enough. In no time at all, Harry is at his side, looking down at him as he takes Louis by the hand and pulls him up to the sidewalk, toward a door that Louis’ not even paying attention to. 

“C’mere,” Harry whispers, pushing Louis back up against it.

Everything is still spinning, and despite the cold outside, Harry’s body warms him immediately, pressing right up against Louis’ front until their chests are touching, and Harry’s hard cock is right up against Louis’ belly, and there are warm fingers swirling up into Louis’ hair and dragging his head back to expose his neck.

And, just like that, their mouths press together messily. Harry’s pink, plush lips settle over Louis’ gently, free hand coming up to wrap around Louis’ throat with no pressure, but plenty of intention.

It sends sparks down to Louis’ belly, his dick, the feeling of Harry’s lips on his own. The alpha’s wet tongue licks into his mouth, feels the back of Louis’ teeth and marks his territory there.

Harry’s hips move against Louis’ belly ever so slightly, just weak little grinds that drive him crazy as Harry sucks on his bottom lip and tugs his head back more, more, _more_ , like he’s trying to see how hard he can push Louis before he’ll break.

The sound of it is absolutely filthy, spit from their mouths mixing on Louis’ lips.

It isn’t until the two of them are panting with the intensity of it that they come up for air. Louis’ eyes are wide and wanting at the sight of Harry licking his spit, _Louis’ spit_ , off of his own lips, and the winter air around them is nothing but hot with how the two of them are gasping.

“Fuck,” Harry whispers, tightening his grip on Louis’ throat, just enough to remind Louis that he’s there. “Look at you.”

Louis doesn’t need to look at himself to see the image, Harry’s reaction more than telling. The alpha is just as bad as he is, with splotchy red cheeks and blown pupils. The fat, hard press of his dick against Louis’ abdomen would be enough on its’ own.

“C’mon,” Louis pushes, sliding one hand between them and aiming for it. “I want you.”

Even to his own ears Louis sounds desperate, needy in a way that he so rarely is. Normally he’s able to have anyone begging for _him_ , but with how Harry’s got him worked up, Louis’ got no choice but to plead now.

And Harry wastes no time giving in, digging for his keys and unlocking the door with as much ease as he can muster while keeping on hand on the back of Louis’ neck, cradling him there.

When the door finally opens, Harry ushers Louis in with urgency, flicking on the lights and locking the door before Louis’ even got a chance to adjust to the smell of the place—how thick and strong Harry’s scent has accumulated in the walls, on the furniture, in the stagnant air.

On a whine, as though he’s overcome, Louis falls back against the wall and stares across the room.

It’s so neat and tidy, all monochrome colors. There’s a blanket bunched up on the couch, as if Harry had thrown it off himself and left it there, and Louis’ mouth goes wet at the idea of burying his face in it, sniffing out any lingering scent of the alpha that might be in it.

“Follow me, baby,” Harry whispers, stepping into Louis’ space once again to lick at his lips, leave a hot, searing kiss there.

One of the alpha’s hands slides against his shoulder, before delving down his back and settling against the curve of his spine. Louis can’t help but wrap his own arms around Harry’s shoulders, rising up on his toes so that he can bury his face right in the alpha’s neck, where he smells so strongly that it’s almost dizzying.

Suddenly, with Louis already wrapped around him, Harry’s hands slide up under his thighs and lift Louis with ease, fingers curling into his ass once Louis’ legs are secured around his hips.

“Needy little thing,” Harry mutters, digging his fingers in at the seam of Louis’ pants, feeling at the wetness there. “Already so worked up.”

Louis wants to feel embarrassed, knows that he should be humiliated from how much slick has seeped through his underwear, through his jeans—but, he isn’t. The smell of alpha, of pheromones and attraction, just leave Louis horny and wanting.

It’s the only thing on his mind right now, letting Harry use him. No amount of humiliation could deter him.

“Please,” Louis whimpers, writhing in Harry’s arm as he noses along the alpha’s neck.

Please. Please. Please.

Louis would do anything for it right now, would do whatever Harry says. This man that he doesn’t even know could break him in two and Louis would be pleased, going off nothing but instinct.

Harry’s teeth find Louis’ shoulder, sharp canines pressing into skin through his shirt as he starts to walk. Louis hisses at it, mouth parting against Harry’s collarbone as he shuts his eyes and tightens his grip.

A door is opened, and Harry’s scent only intensifies in the air, making Louis whine some more, helpless to it. While he’s disoriented, trying to make out his surroundings, the light is flicked on. Suddenly, without any warning, Louis is falling back with Harry still up against him, hitting plush, soft sheets.

So many things rush through Louis’ mind at once, making him gasp and writhe up, hips nudging against Harry’s abdomen in search of relief.

The scent of Harry’s sheets, worn with days, weeks, months of use, smother Louis where he lays, mind only muddled even further by the fact that Harry’s live scent is right up against him as well, surrounding him from all sides.

Harry’s weight against him is just as dizzying, pressed between Louis’ spread thighs and heavy on his chest. Between them, Louis’ prick is throbbing, his hole leaking and wet with how much he _needs_.

Suddenly, Harry’s lips are on his again, sucking harsh and messily while Louis grabs at the back of his shirt, fingers shaking as he starts to drag it up and over his head, breaking the kiss.

Immediately, Harry returns, mouth finding Louis’ again as if kissing him is the only goal of tonight. Relentless in his movements, like he’s tired of being interrupted, Harry’s big palms take hold of Louis’ wrists and drag them up beside his head, holding them down harshly against the mattress.

Wriggling against the grip, Louis hums against Harry’s lips, muttering, “ _Fuck_ ,” and, “ _Shit_ ,” and, “ _Please_.” An endless loop of curses, because his prick hurts with how hard he is, how badly he wants to get off.

It only takes another minute of Harry’s kisses, of his wet tongue and tender lips, for things to start moving again. Slowly, as though he’s forcing himself, Harry lets go of Louis’ wrists and pulls back, breathing so heavy that his chest is heaving with it.

The sound of Louis’ heartbeat is throbbing against his eardrums, and when Harry sits up fully, his crotch nestled up against Louis’ ass and dick pressing all big and thick, the long expanse of Harry’s chest is finally visible.

It makes Louis’ chest shudder, a wave of insecurity wash through him, sobering slightly. Harry is _built_ , all muscles and tattoos. The swell of his pecs and hardened points of his nipples draw Louis’ eyes, the same as his toned abs, a serendipitous butterfly displayed proudly just above his naval.

Louis had known that Harry was beautiful at the start, but. Now, in front of him, it’s more than overwhelming.

“You,” Louis whispers, before he even realizes that he’s started. “You’re so—”

Harry only smirks, reaching down to grip Louis’ calves by his hips and jerk them up, folding them up towards Louis chest despite his jeans making the stretch uncomfortable. Still, Louis gasps, and lets Harry drag his trainers off, throwing them off to the side of the bed.

Louis can only watch in awe as Harry works, peeling his socks off next and running his calloused thumbs against the soles of Louis’ feet, against the bones in his ankles.

“Pretty feet,” Harry whispers, so low that Louis almost misses it.

The alpha’s fingers start sliding up under the hem of Louis’ jeans, climbing his calves as far as his jeans allow. Louis’ skin starts to warm where he’s touched, goosebumps rising along the path that Harry follows, fingers dragging through Louis’ leg hair.

“Pretty calves,” Harry tags on, fingernails dragging against the skin there.

Then, while Louis’ got his lips parted, preening from the soft words spoken above him, Harry drops Louis’ legs in an instant and reaches up toward his hips, hooking his fingers up under the waistband and tugging, quick and without warning.

Louis can only hiss at the sudden movement, his jeans catching on the sensitive head of his cock before coming to rest at the middle of his thighs. Harry’s eyes are pointedly focused right on Louis’ prick, where his briefs have gone wet from how turned on Louis is.

“Pretty here, too,” Harry whispers, tugging Louis’ jeans some more, until he’s able to slip them right off.

Whether it’s because of how hard he’s blushing from Harry’s words, or because this much attention focused on him by the most gorgeous man he’s ever met, Louis’ isn’t sure—he has to throw an arm over his eyes and breathe steadily to find relief.

Then, with Louis’ eyes still covered, Harry’s big, warm palm is suddenly shoving Louis’ shirt up his chest, fingers gripping Louis’ throat again with the fabric bunched up around his wrist, forcing Harry’s forearm to press into Louis’ sternum and belly.

“Look at me,” Harry says, voice low and sultry.

Immediately, as if he’s got no other choice, Louis’ arm falls and his hand comes to rest against Harry’s wrist, gripping tight while Harry holds his throat. He meets Harry’s eyes with a shaky heartbeat, and the two hold an intimate, prolonged stare as Harry’s other hand climbs under the waistband of Louis’ briefs and pulls down, down, _down_.

And, once Louis’ cock is fully exposed, his bare ass pressed against Harry’s sheets and his slick smearing across the fabric of it, Harry finally glances down.

“ _Fuck_ , look at that,” Harry whispers, and he completely forgoes pulling Louis’ underwear down the rest of the way to press his palm up against Louis’ pelvis, back of his hand nudging the sensitive head of his cock.

It’s inherent and instinctual, the way the Louis blushes and coils, fingers gripping against Harry’s wrist. Almost _embarrassed_ , because Harry’s just staring at his most vulnerable place in awe, Louis fights the urge to shove away.

“So fucking pretty here,” Harry whispers, pressing down against Louis’ pelvis.

Just those words are enough to send a spark up Louis’ spine, make heat swirl deep in his belly. But, then, Harry is leaning down and killing the distance, and those plush lips that’d been on Louis’ mouth only a moment ago place a gentle, tender kiss right against the length of Louis’ prick.

Everything goes hazy. Even if he isn’t doing anything to get Louis off, just praising him and admiring the sight, Harry is driving Louis mad. If he’d had any more than one beer, Louis might be able to come just from this—from Harry’s filthy mouth and dominant grip.

Filling with mortification as the moments pass, as Harry just continues press these tender, intimate kisses against his cock, Louis finally has enough and mutters, “Come _on_ ,” tugging at Harry’s arm to get him moving.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Harry immediately quips, but there’s no bite to his words or anger in his eyes. There’s this amused smirk on his lips, and the hand around his throat releases so that he can sit back up, finish undressing Louis like he’d started.

While Harry tugs his briefs off his legs and starts to tug Louis’ shirt up over his head, Louis squints at the amused look that Harry never loses. It’s almost infuriating, how Louis is ready to give in completely while Harry is holding on to some semblance of sanity.

“I thought you knew what I wanted,” Louis mutters, falling back against the bed once he’s fully undressed. It’s blatantly obvious, how Harry has still got half his kit on.

“You think I don’t?” Harry asks, and he drops down beside Louis, on his side so that he’s got himself propped up on one elbow while he looks down at Louis’ chest, his nipples and naval.

“If you did,” Louis says, watching how Harry’s eyes travel the expanse of his skin, his fingers fall to his belly to feel at the skin there, “your cock would already be in me.”

It’s a lie.

Louis loves this part, the build-up, the before. When he’s able to get so worked up that he comes fast and desperate, able to make an alpha come just as quick. Except, Harry’s got him under this spell, turning him into some pliant and submissive omega that he’s never been before.

“Is that so?” Harry asks, smirking.

The hand that he’s got on Louis’ skin abandons him, and Harry flops down onto his back. Both of his arms rise, and he shoves them up under his head, pillowing his neck while he glances over at Louis and nods down. “If I’m doing such a bad job, why don’t you take over?”

Louis blinks, lips parting. “What?”

Harry nods again, down toward where his jeans are tented in the front, his cock thick and heavy and waiting. “Go ahead, Omega.”

Just the thought of it makes his mouth water. Forcing Harry over the edge, doing what he pleases with the alpha. Like he’d originally planned, early in the night when he first set sights on him, Louis would love nothing more than to take advantage of the opportunity being given to him.

And, despite how appealing the idea of Harry using _him_ is, Louis’ not going to pass up the chance to have his way.

Without another word, or any sign of protest, Louis shoves himself up and watches how Harry’s eyes widen in shock as he starts undoing the alpha’s belt, dragging down his zipper with shaky fingers.

“You—”

Harry starts, but stops, and his biceps flex as though he’s restraining himself, like he’s shocked that Louis gave in so easily.

“You said so,” Louis whispers, shoving Harry’s jeans down, and his boxers with him.

It’s almost offensive, Harry’s big cock, slapping up against his pelvis once Louis’ got it free. Harry only jerks slightly as it hits, just between two laurels that he’s got tattooed low on his hips, and Louis resists the urge to ogle like Harry had.

Though, Louis can’t help but admit that it’s a nice fucking cock. Big, and long, wet at the tip, with just enough heft to it that Louis knows it’ll hurt. It makes Louis’ mouth water, just the thought of having it up inside, rubbing all the right places, and Louis shoves Harry’s clothes the rest of the way off so that he can have just that.

“Do you have a rubber?” Louis asks, climbing over Harry with far much more ease than he’d imagined he’d have when he’s as desperate for it as he is now.

There’s an unmistakable tremor in his fingers, though, and he tries to brush it off while he settles himself high on Harry’s thighs, his own cock resting right up against Harry’s.

“I, uhm—” Harry stutters for a beat, arms pulling out from under his head to slap at the bedside table, jostling Louis while he digs through the top drawer. “Fuck. Yeah, here.”

Louis takes it without hesitation, and Harry’s big, shocked eyes follow his hands while Louis rips it open, fiddles with the rubber until he’s able to grab Harry’s cock and slide it down with ease.

The alpha shudders at Louis’ touch, at how his fingers linger on it longer than necessary, stroking at it for just a moment, just to get a feel.

And, Louis can’t help but ogle now, caught up in how Harry’s big prick looks beside his own. Louis isn’t small, definitely bigger than some of the omega cocks that he’s seen on websites—but he’s nowhere near Harry’s alpha size.

Smaller in girth, in length, in everything, Louis’ prick is only half the size of Harry’s, and it’s so visible when they’re side by side like this, Harry’s massive dick taking up Louis’ entire palm and still not fitting in his grip.

“Louis,” Harry mutters, hands climbing to grab at Louis’ knees on either side of his hips. “Stop teasing.”

Oh. Louis’ fingers are still working up Harry’s length, slow and tedious, like he’s trying to memorize the feel of it before it’s buried up inside of him. There’s a tenseness in Harry’s jaw, and the flinch of his abdomen, and Louis stroke his cock a few more times, just to revel in how Harry’s eyes fall shut and a groan leaves his lips, frustrated.

Louis does move, though, after a long moment. The pace of his heartbeat speeds up, ever so slightly, while he climbs higher up Harry’s body and hovers over his dick, using one hand to anchor it upright.

With his chin tilted down, so that he can watch Harry’s dick as he moves, Louis’ hit with another wave of insecurity at just how much slick he’s got leaking, enough of it coming out of him that it’s dripping down his cheeks, wet all up and down Harry’s thighs.

Fuck, Louis’ cheeks burn, but he presses on. And, just when he’s started to lower himself, can feel the head of Harry’s fat prick nudging up against his hole, the world spins.

Harry flips them without warning, forcing a huff of air from Louis’ lungs when his backside hits the mattress. Before Louis can complain, or gripe, or think, Harry’s right up in his face again with dark eyes and a strong grip on his jaw, fingers pressing into his cheeks hard enough to puff up his lips.

“Enough of that,” Harry grunts, spreading Louis’ legs with his thighs, exposing his hole that much more, slick leaking down his crack. “That’s not how you want it.”

Fuck, it’s so hot, Harry holding him down, forcing Louis to look into his eyes. Louis’ chest is on fire, his heartbeat thundering.

“It is,” Louis argues, words coming out jumbled from how Harry’s holding his face.

“It fucking isn’t,” Harry snaps, and one of his big hands shoves up under Louis’ hip, fingers gripping his arsecheek hard enough to hurt while he pulls Louis open. “This is what you really want.”

Harry’s movements become quick and choppy, flipping Louis over so that he’s on his stomach, cheek pressed right up against one of the pillows, and his arse is up and out with Harry sitting against his thighs, cock nestled just below the curve of his cheeks.

It knocks the breath out of Louis once again, how fervently Harry takes control again. Back and forth, giving and taking, it’s leaving Louis’ brain muddled and messy.

“Want me to use you,” Harry mutters, and both of his hands find Louis’ cheeks now, gripping much too hard and spreading him open, putting him that much more on show.

Louis wants to gasp, to whine, to moan, to _anything_ , but Harry’s cutting him off with a quick, sharp slap to his ass, sending his entire body shaking at the impact. Another one follows immediately after, on the opposite cheek, and Louis can feel another gush of slick leak from his hole, right where he’s sure Harry is watching.

“Want me to show you who’s in charge.”

One of Harry’s hands comes up out of nowhere, gripping Louis’ chin and turning his head even further, so that he’s looking Harry in the eyes with his back to him, arching for him.

“Came up to me all pretty,” Harry starts, leaning in, one hand harshly landing against Louis’ spine for leverage as he gets closer. “Acted all innocent, like you just wanted a chat.”

Suddenly, Harry’s fingers against his chin are shoving through his lips, pressing against Louis’ tongue and making him gag from how far back he reaches. It only makes his hole clench, his eyes shudder shut.

“You thought you could trick me into bed, huh?” Harry asks, but it’s not a question. The fingers in Louis’ mouth press into his teeth, against his molars at the back of his mouth. “Thought you’d get me here by making me think you’re some sweet, innocent omega.”

Louis tries to speak, words garbled on Harry’s long fingers, but that attempt dies quickly. Fuck, his prick is so hard, trapped between his belly and the bed.

“You’re not sweet, though,” Harry says, withdrawing his fingers in the slightest, and he fucks his hips up this time, sliding his big cock through the slick mess between Louis’ cheeks.

It makes Louis shudder, makes him clench again, again, and again, wanting nothing more than for Harry to angle himself down, just in the slightest, to push inside. Harry doesn’t, though, and just fucks himself against Louis’ arse some more, his hot breath landing against Louis’ ear and cheek.

“Came up to me smelling all horny,” Harry thrusts against him harder, and the tip of his cock catches on Louis’ rim this time, slipping before it can fit inside.

“Looked up at me with those pretty eyes.” Harry’s fingers pull out of his mouth completely, wiping up all the spit that’s gathered on Louis’ lips before shoving back in again, keeping him quiet and shaking.

“Acted like a slut for me, once you knew I was interested,” Harry continues, and the hand that’s pressing into his spine rushes down Louis’ back before it’s replacing Harry’s cock, and two of those long fingers delve straight into his hole, slippery and so fucking big.

Louis does moan this time, because Harry’s fingers fill him just right, sliding up inside until the last of his knuckles are tucked right up in Louis’ heat, scissoring him open with no relent. Those fingers pull out, tugging on Louis’ rim, before sliding right back in, curling up inside.

“H—” Louis starts, tongue feeling swollen and sore under Harry’s harsh press, but he’s cut off when suddenly a third finger joins the other two in his arse, much too quick and sudden to have him doing anything other than whining.

“You’re a brat, I think,” Harry whispers, biting at Louis earlobe.

The words make Louis’ skin flush, his chest rise and fall with urgency. It’s so fucking hot, so overwhelming. Louis’ never been controlled like this, never been put in his place. It’s getting him so worked up, though, making him so fucking hard.

Harry’s fingers slip out of his mouth for good, now, leaving with a trail of messy spit that drenches Louis’ chin. The alpha takes his hand and drags it down Louis’ spine, spreading his spit all down his back until he’s nearing the curve of Louis’ ass.

“Say it,” Harry says, still fucking Louis with his fingers, rubbing him just right inside.

Louis’ cock is completely forgotten underneath him, as if they’re pretending it isn’t there at all, and Louis can only nod, because he wants more. He wants to beg, to plead, to give Harry whatever he wants if it’ll give him some relief.

“I’m a brat,” Louis gasps, shaking when Harry’s fingers nick him just right inside. Everything’s already overheated, but it goes even hotter, Louis’ hips bucking up into the sheets and back against Harry’s hand.

“You’re a brat,” Harry repeats, and he pulls his hand away without warning, leaving Louis completely empty.

It makes Louis whine, making him throb from the inside out while he arches his arse back, chasing Harry’s touch. Except, Harry flips him again, getting him on his back once more before sliding right back into his space, settling between his thighs.

As soon as Harry leans back down, gets Louis’ prick pressed up against his abdomen, Louis thrusts up against him, eyes wet and body shaking.

Suddenly, Harry’s wiping under his eyes, gentler than any of his other touches. “Is this okay?” It’s so serious, suddenly, and he doesn’t make any other moves to touch Louis.

It takes Louis a moment to process the words, too caught up in the sudden relief against his prick, and Louis can only nod for a second, before he’s stuttering out, “Yeah, yes—it’s, yeah.”

Harry watches his eyes for another moment, like he’s not so sure, but Louis’ incessant thrusting against his abs seems to push him into action, holding Louis’ hips down once he’s gotten whatever type of validation it is that he needs.

“I’ll give you what you want,” Harry says, finally, before reaching down and taking hold of his own cock, lining himself up.

Louis’ about to beg some more, to give into whatever this newly submissive side of himself seems to want, but Harry shuts him up quickly enough in one slick, persistent move.

Without another word of warning, Harry’s fat prick is nudging past Louis’ hole, messy from all the slick there, and he’s pushing up inside Louis’ body fast and hard, making Louis’ entire body go tight and his lips fall slack on a sharp hiss.

The alpha above him groans, forehead pressing into Louis’ chest, and Louis can’t do anything but grip at his back, whine into the air—it’s so fucking big, filling him up and leaving no room for air.

It’s so fucking intense, Harry’s fat knob, making Louis’ toes curl from the pain of it, the undeniable pleasure, and Louis’ teeth are almost chattering with how much he fucking loves it.

Harry hardly gives him a moment to breathe before he’s dragging his prick back, almost slipping out, before thrusting back in, making Louis’ thighs jostle from where they’re slung over Harry’s hips.

Another gasp falls from Louis’ lips, but he grabs Harry’s face this time, pulling him up for a messy kiss, all hot and wet. Spit from Louis’ chin slides between them, gets them both so fucking dirty with it, and Harry fucks in again, fast, hard.

Louis’ entire body is coiled tight, his prick catching against Harry’s naval on each fuck in, and their mouths only part for Harry to breathe into him, for Louis to stare up at the alpha’s pained face.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, digging his nails into Louis’ hips hard enough to sting, to leave marks. “You’re so fuckin—nngh—tight, Omega.” Harry fucks up harder, for emphasis, and Louis can feel it deep in his belly, how big Harry is.

It’s _everything_ , the feeling of Harry’s prick rubbing up inside, hitting his spot just barely with every upstroke but not quite. Even the painful stretch of it, of his body trying to adjust to Harry’s size despite how fast and hard he’s thrusting in, makes Louis’ own cock blurt precome, already so close, just from the feeling inside and the relief from rubbing against Harry’s skin.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis moans, hitching his thigh up higher, changing the angle.

And, that’s it.

Harry starts pistoning in, hips slapping against Louis’ arse, fat cock squelching on each stroke out from just how wet Louis is. The angle has Harry getting even deeper, has his dick pressing so deep inside that Louis’ entire body starts to spasm, shaking and shuddering.

One of Harry’s hands fits between their bellies, taking hold of Louis’ smaller prick, and jerks him in time with each thrust. It’s such a euphoric sensation, Harry taking up space inside and holding him down outside.

It only takes a few more minutes of it, of this angle, and that pace, and Harry’s big hand tugging at his sensitive cockhead, for Louis to feel it all burning inside, balls drawing up tight and hole clenching.

“Gonna come?” Harry asks, out of breath and stuttering his hips. The alpha’s brow is pulled tight, eyes narrowing on Louis’ own, and all that Louis can do is nod, desperate as he fucks his own hips in time to meet Harry’s.

The alpha kisses him again, but his hand falls away suddenly, right when Louis can feel himself drawing up tight. Suddenly, the sensation is gone, and Harry’s hips are faltering, and so much frustration fills Louis up that he’s about to shout with it, except—

Harry rolls them over, suddenly, so that Louis’ sat on top of him again. Laying against Harry’s chest, with his legs spread wide and Harry’s prick still inside of him, Louis’ lips part to snap, but those words die too, because Harry starts up again.

Fucking up into him without mercy, while his thighs brace Louis’ back with each thrust, the change of angle is even better than before, making Louis’ eyes roll up at the feel.

Harry’s hitting him perfectly, dragging against his spot inside with every little movement, every harsh drive upwards. And, his hand returns to Louis’ cock, thumbing at the sensitive head of it in quick little flicks.

“Can I knot?” Harry asks, breathless and panting, eyes wide as he looks up at Louis. When no reply comes immediately, Louis too overcome to do anything other than moan loudly, shamelessly, bouncing on Harry’s lap with no relent, Harry tries again, more urgent.

“Lou—Louis,” Harry grinds, squeezing his cock hard, tight, making it hurt. “Can I knot?”

Immediately, hissing, Louis shudders and rushes, “Yes, yeah, yes,” not even thinking about it.

Just like that, Harry’s sated, fucking Louis without pause again. There’s a trail of sweat down his temples, at the swell of his collarbones, trickling down his pecs and toward his belly.

Louis’ belly coils tight, getting closer, closer, _closer_ , and he leans down to lick a fat stripe up Harry’s cheek, then down his throat, where he’s sweating the most. The salty tang of Harry’s sweat, how sharp and heady his alpha pheromones burn in his nose, his mouth, his foggy head, combined with the incessant pressure against his spot, up inside, and how Harry is relentless against his prick—it sends Louis over, making him whine and moan, groan, pant.

Everything shatters around him, his hole clenching up tight while Harry screws up into him, grunting from how hard he’s fucking. Louis’ eyesight almost whites out, and his muscles spasm in Harry’s hold, head throwing back, overwhelmed.

With the force of it, Louis’ ears start ringing, breathing in fast and harsh.

On the come down, Harry’s thrusts never stop, the alpha grunting and pistoning into Louis’ spent hole, slick squelching so loud with the force of it. It’s almost painful, how desperate Harry is fucking him, eyes trained on Louis’ throat, his lips, and the hand that had tugged Louis off stays cradled against Louis’ prick, like Harry owns it now.

It only takes him another minute, jostling little gasps and sighs out of Louis, before Harry finally comes, grabbing Louis’ hips and forcing him down onto his dick with enough strength to leave bruises, and Louis’ eyes roll up when Harry’s knot fills up, locking them together.

With Louis’ cock still hard, barely flagging and still interested, the feeling of Harry’s fat knot is enough to have him coming again, body shaking and belly tightening up.

Only a little precome manages to spill between them, atop where Louis’ jizz is already settling into Harry’s skin, and Louis is so lost to the full, euphoric feeling of being completely full that he almost misses the way that Harry’s fingers run through the mess as he pants, gathering it all up on his fingers and bringing it to his own lips, sucking his fingertips between his lips.

“Fuck,” Harry grunts, legs dropping down while he shudders, eyes shut tight.

Louis’ brain is all fuzzy, hole clenching with each twitch of Harry’s prick inside him, and Louis can only nod, repeating the sentiment. “Fuck.”

Harry starts to laugh, one hand still resting on Louis’ hip, the other back to the mess Louis’ made on his stomach, fingers running through it idly while he steadies his breath.

And, Louis’ entranced at the sight, the feel—watching how now, ever after the heat of it all has passed, Harry still seems as feral as before, rubbing Louis’ spunk into his skin like he’s trying to mix Louis’ scent with his own.

“Fuck,” Louis says again, grabbing Harry’s wrist to stop him from playing. “I’m fucken’ exhausted, now.”

The alpha chuckles again, and he pulls Louis down against his chest, ignoring the way that Louis protests at the sticky, tacky feeling of his come sliding between their bellies. The feeling of Harry in his arse never falters, so present with each twitch and throb.

“You’re amazing,” Harry whispers, rubbing one of his big palms down Louis’ spine, circling over his back.

Immediately, Louis flushes at the words, preening at the attention and validation. He curls into Harry’s neck, nosing along his throat while he takes in his scent, revels in how strong it is.

For a while the two are silent, just breathing into the silence, groaning every little bit from the feeling of Harry’s cock up inside, the way his spunk fills the condom and stretches Louis, like he’s meant to.

“You,” Louis starts, swallowing the spit in his mouth. “Why’d you choose me?”

Harry keeps rubbing at his back, but hums in curiosity, before speaking clearly, “What?”

Louis’ cheeks heat again, suddenly feeling shy, so unlike how he started in the night. “Out of everyone at the bar that wanted you, why’d you choose me?”

Harry stares at him confused for a bit, like he’s trying to comprehend, but he finally shakes his head and captures Louis’ jaw in his grasp again. “When the prettiest omega in the room chooses you, you don’t look anywhere else.”

And, oh. Yeah.

Fucking charmer, this one. Louis has to snort, and nuzzle into his palm, and blink his eyes for a bit, so exhausted from such a thorough fucking.

“Louis,” Harry says, once Louis’ eyes have fallen shut.

“Hm?”

Harry clears his throat, and Louis meets his eyes, almost taken aback by the sudden uncertainty in them. The alpha looks so different now from five, ten minutes ago, and Louis clenches around him.

“Would you, erm—” Harry smiles, laughing. “Do you wanna go out, maybe? Like. A date.”

Silence.

Louis’ sitting on this man’s prick, after being so thoroughly fucked by him that he’s not sure he’ll be able to walk in the morning. He’s given himself completely over to him, let this alpha use him and take care of him in a way that he’s never let anyone before, despite not knowing him at all.

And, that’s.

Louis can only laugh, kissing Harry’s lips again, almost flustered that he’s made such an impression. If anyone should be shy here, uncertain or embarrassed, it’s Louis.

“I’d love that,” Louis tells him, licking into his mouth, gentle and tender, all slow. “If you let me stay the night, that is.” Then, before Harry can say anything else, Louis buries his face back into Harry’s neck, eyes falling closed. “I’m worn out, thanks to you.”

Harry’s laugh rumbles against Louis’ chest, his breath tickling at Louis’ ear and shoulder. “’Course, baby.”

Just like that, Harry wraps his arm around Louis’ shoulders and holds him closer, cock still filling Louis up. Once they separate, they’ll have to wash up and turn the lights out, and Louis’ not sure if Harry will feel the same way in the morning.

But, right now, filled up and being doted on so lovingly, Louis’ perfectly sated.

He’d planned the evening to find himself an alpha to take home, to tame, to use for the evening, but he’s found something even better.

An alpha who can tame _him_.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are more than appreciated. 
> 
> thank you for reading!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/deeperthanink) / [tumblr](https://pinklouis.tumblr.com/)


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